I saw the cyclist from quite a long way back on the straight country road. As I got closer I was fascinated by the movement of the cyclist’s buttocks moving in rhythm with the legs and pedals. I observed the blonde ponytail hanging below the helmet and the way her tight threequarter length blue bike pants showed every ripple of her thighs and calves. As I rapidly closed her in my van I appreciated how well her tight fighting yellow and black polyester jersey displayed her trim waist and the shape of her fit upper body. Observing the shape of her athletic body from behind was certainly cheering me up as I returned with the small van empty after a wasted journey to Gloucester. I braked hard and ran back to the mangled bike and the prone cyclist in a panic, as the tanker disappeared into the distance apparently oblivious to the incident.. There was no way I could blame anyone else for my stupid inattention, I felt certain I would at the very least lose my licence for this. I stood over the motionless body of the
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